The Academy
by PanderblastShank
Summary: My attempy at Disney high-school fic, rated M for later chapters because it's the real world, babe, Villain-heavy because they're much more fun to write. Elite boarding school that mixes privileged princes with draft-dodging outcasts taught by on-the-run criminals, blackmailed ex-spies, old-school gangsters, dishonorable discharges and a Headmistress with perfect timing. Flame on.
1. Chapter 1 - Admission Suspicion

He raised an eyebrow.

Nothing.

He leant forward over steepled fingers and let a slow malicious smile spread over his face.

Still nothing.

He let his face fall into a deep frown as he prepared a suitably subtle insult to crush her spirit, but before he could stick the knife in-

"OOOO! I love your paper knife! Is the handle a viper?!"

She sat on a hard-backed chair before his wide, imposing desk. Practically radiating sunlight. Sunbeams and excited flowers and enthusiastic hmm…kittens? No, she was more of a puppy, an eager, desperate-to-please pup with a-

"I'm just so excited to be here! I love how old the school is! And I bet you have a huge library and I heard you have a ballroom and a pool and-and-and a big gymnasium-!"

Hmph. So she's perky. Time to break out the big guns. He'd be damned if anyone saw a pupil leave his office looking anything less than heartbroken. He stood slowly, his long, thin frame unfolding and strode gracefully around his room, stopping to adjust a thick curtain or stroke the spine of a book, and he spoke as he checked his fingers for dust and slowly paced the room.

"I'm sure you're aware of this Academy's long and illustrious history. Our alumni go on to achieve great things and are consistently the leaders in their chosen fields and therefore we have set the bar _understandably_ high - and bars are what have landed you here, amongst the bright, the brilliant, the talented and those destined for greatness.'

Her wide green eyes followed him, drinking in every drawn-out word.

' Your international achievements in the field of gymnastics are what led you to our school and what won your admission. Quite simply, we chose to overlook your practically non-existent academic attributes- home schooling by your mother, a _bizarrely_ eclectic curriculum and so forth, based _purely_ on the glory you can bring to this school through each little twist and turn on the parallel bars-'

He stopped behind her, placing long spidery fingers on each side of the chair -back. He bent low over her and whispered, soft as a snake -

'- But here there's no one who cares enough to catch you, so you'd better not slip up or you'll hit the ground so hard expulsion will be an act of mercy, and I _myself_ will be watching your progress. Very. Closely….' He felt that warm fuzz inside as he waited for the tears to co-

'Really?! Oh, that is-, it's like, I've never even had a dad or like an uncle before! So I can come to you with any problems or just to say hi or –oo! I can bake! Do you like frosting!?'

She had stood up in an instant, practically on her tiptoes and vibrating with well-meaning excitement whilst Professor Sabri's brain switched into panic mode:

QUERY:UNCLE?/?

…NO INFORMATION AVAILABLE ON SUBJECT

SOLUTION:/ =?

WORKING…

…

…

…

FORCE QUIT FORCE QUIT FORCE QUIT FORCE QUIT

Without a word he herded the babbling teenager out of his office and slammed the door behind her. He turned around and leant against it, heart still hammering away, only to hear a loud **Thump**. He turned and saw several inches of blonde hair caught in the door. He watched, mind still reeling as the hair inched upwards in jerky movements 'til he slowly reached out, turned the handle of his thick, dark door and saw the blonde locks whisked away to freedom. He shut his door again, brain cooling, breathing slowing, leaving him calmer and blissfully alone-

-except for his old friend; the nagging stabbing pain in his leg. He sat down heavily at his desk cursing the dampness of the season that would cripple him in the coming months. Time to use that blasted cane again…

A sudden thought. A sudden passing fancy,

Maybe.…..just _maybe_ … I should have it plated gold? To give it that gleam of power….?

He lifted the expensive cane to eye level, turning it slowly, smirk spreading:

' Yeessss….yeessssssss….the powerrrrrr'

So, mes amies, the new girl has arrived, bringing with her mystery, confusion and rays of sunlight that may heat..or _burn_! Will her dark past follow her to her new future? Who can say? But! Will it ambush her in the present? That, that is a stor-

" _Clopin!"_

Uh, um

"What are you doing!?"

I was, um, (be cool, just stay quiet I'll handle this, keep reading) I was merely admiring our _magnifique_ trophy cabinet...

"Don't lie to me you little shit! You were narrating again weren't you?"

No! No! I swear I was talking to myself!

"You were narrating your arse off! I heard you!"

No, I, there was a-my friend was here, he -

"You've been warned countless times you French mentalist! This is going straight to your Head of House!"

No please! Please! I couldn't help it! _Please_ don't I'm trying really hard – look! Look! No handpuppets this time!

"Get back to your class this instant or I'll slap your mouth shut!"

Yes yes, thank you! I promise no more narrating!

"Hmph…..french fruitcake."

Well. What are you looking at?

Yes, you, the chapters over, piss off, or if you feel like giving up on any pretence of a life could always read the rest of this tosh! After all, if I can train a parrot to sing-

-tended.

You just deleted me!

You just deleted me you little git! Go do something worthwhile with your life instead of writing bloody Disney fanfiction! No one ever made a li- **I like shagging boy's bums**

YOU STOP THAT THIS INSTANT! I do not like boys bums! And I res- **I like boy's willies** \- ENOUGH! THAT'S IT!

I quit, you hear me? No more Clayton in the rest of this stupid exercise in loneliness! Go and get a few cats you spinsiter!

And use a full stop every now and again!

SLAM!


	2. Chapter 2 - Damn you Hades

Allah damn you Hayden.

The night had started off pleasantly enough, Monday night cocktails at the champagne bar at the casino with those three luscious French blonde triplets; big eyes, big hair, big ...personalities? No, definitely not. Hayden wasn't lying when he said they were easy on the eyes, pity they were so vapid. At least Hayden didn't have to listen to their airheaded twittering, the only French he had ever learned was decades ago on that student exchange summer in Monaco - and that vocabulary mostly concerned swearing, ordering drinks and female anatomy.

We'd ended up in Hades' apartment (which was always freezing, supposedly to determine if female guests were wearing bras. These 3 weren't - by this point -although Hayden was wearing two on his head) and I had ensconced himself comfortably on the leather sofa with the girl that spoke the least while Hades happily had a French sandwich (well, baguette I suppose) on the living room rug with the other two.

Bastard. It was all that Greek bastard's fault.

Not that Hades had seen my little _branding_ incident (not with where his face was buried at the time) or the hefty smack on the bottom I'd given my pretty torturer for her transgressions, but it was too late and I was now left with a very vivid reminder of the evening in the form of a large purplish love bite emblazoned on my jugular. First thing on a Tuesday. Which of course would be _huge_ hit with my pupils and not affect their fear of me in _any_ way and _of course_ it wouldn't be Hades' main source of torment for the next, oh, say 18 years precisely?

Hmph, nothing really to do but borrow one of the Major's cravats and wait for it to fade before it was spotted by the faculty or that sleazy whore Hades, or worse – Mallory!

I watch my face contort in discomfort as I massage my throat and imagine the combined hell of Hades' leers and Mallory's...what? Anger? Mockery?...Jealousy? My stomach and heart danced a brief arousal/terror tango before I snap back to reality and the practical side of post- vampiric foreplay.

Hmmm... already missed breakfast, so I have until homeroom is over to look at least _bearable._ No time for an outfit change...make-up could work but who could I...?

Ah.

An indulgent smile spreads from ear to ear as I grip my notes, quickly twirl my perfect beard and smarten myself up. I turn and stride out to the chemistry department, thankful for the empty halls and my luck in wearing my green waistcoat.

She'd be pleased that it matched her eyes...

Dr. Hilde Cashlin stood by her high laboratory table half-heartedly correcting desk graffiti and waiting for her snotty, upstart class to arrive and screw up her classroom-and shoes, no doubt. She felt a presence and turned to see a dark figure looming behind her. She sprung from her stool with a very undignified yelp... then tossed her perfect hair and folded her arms when the dull winter light revealed that serpent, Sabri.

"So sorry to have disturbed you my dear Dr. Cashlin, I hope I didn't scare you too much?" He oiled.

"Of course not, but you'd think you'd be aware of the effect your face has on people by now. Especially this early in the morning."

Jafar mock-flinched, "once again my most abject apologies..."

"Apology accepted now unless you're here to discuss something important you may leave and loom elsewhere." She snapped turning to the board.

Bad start and time is running out, he adjusted his collar and decided on a full charm offensive.

"In all truth you are the only one who can help me in my current dire situation..."

"Hmf, I have a busy day today and I assume you do too and I do not appreciate meaningless chit chat and sneaking up on people."

He followed her around her workbench "I have had a dreary morning with dull grey weather, giggling plain little girls getting my coffee order wrong and yesterday I spent an hour with Gaston discussing pool drains – is it any wonder I wanted to remind myself that there is beauty in the world?"

Under her expensive foundation, she blushed.

They had had a Thing of course. Though how much of a Thing no one knew, after all, Hilde was not one to kiss and tell.

She was, however, writing a book.

He saw that slight smirk at the corner of her mouth and thought it was for him, after all, at one time they had had a lot of fun together- til Rourke went and ruined it for everybody.

She turned to him, twirling a test tube in her fingers "And now you have convinced yourself of the beauty in the world may I ask why you want me?

He grinned at her phrasing, by now wishing he could play with her a bit longer, but he was cutting things fine as it was

"I wish for specialist help in your esteemed field of study."

"Chemistry?"

"Make-up"

She laughed pleasantly, and then not so pleasantly when he showed her the large hickey on the right side of his neck

"My my my! Someone's been watching Twilight!"

"Hurry and cover it up woman-" he snarled before turning his head towards her soft finger tips and finding their faces mere inches apart "-or I'll show u just how much it hurt" he purred.

She almost giggled before breaking out a large bag of assorted powders and creams from nowhere and setting to work.

By the time the first class bell rang the mark was invisible.

"There, now you look like a grown up" She finished brushing light powder across his dark skin with a flourish.

Jafar could have sat there longer, her hands were cool and soft and very precise, and she was so very beautiful, but he slipped from the stool and allowed her to stand very close and adjust his collar. He raised her manicured hand to his mouth and kissed it's flawless surface in thanks. Many staff members believed her startling green eyes were contacts- he knew for a fact they weren't and as he stared and she stared and th-

"Ahem."

...

They turned to see Headmistress Vincent standing in the doorway, looking poised and professional, with that damned knowing smile.

"Professor Sabri, here you are, I wished to let you know that the quantity surveyors from Goodfellow & Scrooge Mutual have arrived to assess the fountain repairs - but I see you're busy."

He hastily dropped Hilde's hand; eyes hunting for his notes

"No, no, not busy at all, I'll meet with them now."

"Oh..." The regal Principal spoke softly. Jafar froze. wide eyes 2. Innocent voice tone -oh hells.

"'Not busy at all'. Well, well. I wonder if all the other members of the faculty are 'not busy at all', it will be interesting to find out who's actually doing what they're paid to do in this school." Jafar could just make out a small herd of discomfited 13year olds milling behind her, watching,

"Although given that the school is still standing and the student body haven't staged a bloody coup d'etat that must mean- oh! That must mean that perhaps your work within this school must not be that essential after all, and I would hate for your employment here to keep you from pursuing your other, more obvious passions." She finished with a vicious smile that made Hilde grasp her make-up bag as a child would clutch a teddy bear.

The children flattened themselves against the corridor outside as the Headmistress swept away to her office to rest after such a satisfying feast of Sabri and Cashlin's humiliation and ridicule - and it was in front of her little class! How delightful! 'That'll teach Hilde not to touch my things' she thought savagely.

And with that thought she stopped.


	3. Chapter 3 - Special Relationship

I remember gasping at the pain round my neck. Hockey bruises I can deal with, but this? This hurt was hot and spreading to the back of my throat and behind my eyes. I twisted my finger round the torn strap of my top; he'd been so angry, so…different. He ripped my bra with one hand and wrenched at my jeans and when I said no he told me how I was embarrassing him in front of the guys and how he just wanted to show me off, how I'd Do It If I loved Him. Why had I gone there?

Because he asked me, of course and I didn't question him, even when I was on my knees. But the dark locker room stank and was filled with his cronies, laughing like hyenas. Some of them were rubbing the front of their trousers or rummaging rhythmically through their front pockets. Then he stopped trying to hold me down and got this savage look on his beautiful face and called me pathetic. How I followed him around, hung on every word, did anything he asked. I couldn't breathe by then. How ugly I was, how it was my fault, how I made him do this…

The world snapped it's fingers and the love of my life was gone.

The things I did for him, the things I … _gave_ _to_ him and then I pushed him away and held my trousers up and ran and I heard laughing behind me and he just, just…

I remember running outside into the dusk, running through the grounds until I reached the old stables and just slumped to the dirt, resting on my heels and ducking my head down low, trying to catch my breath and stop the hysteria rising, thinking 'oh boy. English tomorrow with a class full of idiots who I just _know_ will have been told how much of a slut I am ('in the boys locker room did you hear? With all of them watching!")  and how he dumped me cos I wouldn't go all the way with him and you bet your ass they'll believe both, ignore the obvious contradiction...

My usual 'um, whatever! Like I care?' thoughts weren't working and the shame and fear were choking me, I was so desperate to let go, collapse in a sobbing heap - or maybe just run away - and why not? There's no one here, no one looking for me, no one coming to comfort me...

Even now, years on, I jump when I hear that little pebbly noise, like the one I heard then in the stable. That sound that made me jump up and thunk my head on the old stone, right where he'd torn out my hair (just my luck huh?) but all was silent and I was sure at first I'd imagined it, that there was no one else there in the old stables except my sad, sorry little self - until I saw the sudden red glow of a light in the gloom and a large part of the wall opposite me moved– no - a large _shape_ straightened up from the wall and walked into the half-light. I knew who he was even then- who didn't?

Mr. Glossimi.

The devil himself.

The huge Head of Business Studies, just arrived last year. All slicked-back oily hair who always, despite his bulk, gave an aura of sharpness. Maybe it was the long jaw or his strange teeth or his razor-straight nose. Rumour was and is that he was some big shot Hedge Fund Manager or Investment banker in the city, til he'd had some sorta breakdown or lost the Russian Mafia's money or got arrested for an illegal gambling ring or all three and that the only reason he isn't in jail and is teaching here is because that jerk Professor Sabri and he were best pals, a fact that only added to his mystery. Nowadays, to me, he ain't a mystery, he's a... well, there aren't enough 4-letter words in the world to describe what he is, what I know he is now.

Most kids found him funny and cool (the Ferrari he was banned from driving that sat by the teachers lounge maybe?). Some couldn't stand him and his touchy-feely approach and sudden temper, but no one trusted him and no-one pissed him off 'cause he had a **baaadd** temper and was vindictive as hell. Sometimes you could hear him screaming at his first two Teaching Assistants from the next building. Those two perhaps were quite bright and brilliant at college (they'd have had to be to get into this Academy), but months upon months of having Mr. Glossimi take his anger out on them had left them nervous wrecks, you'd see them tripping over each other, running into walls, falling down stairs etc. to the point that back then they were just known as Pain and Panic – even by some of the staff. One day, not long after our 'private tutorials' began I asked him what had happened to them. He grinned like a gargoyle and asked me if I liked barbeque.

But back then, in the dusky stable:

"Well, well well...who do we have here?" He walked slowly towards me, hands behind his back. I just stood there, God he was huge. And creepy.

"Well? You got a name, don't you?"

"...Meg."

"Meg. Megmegmeg, and what is _Meg_ doing way out here, alll alone –well, except for _yours truly_?"

He'd raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice at his last two words. Perhaps it was nothing, just him trying to freak me out, but I'd just had my first taste of what men can do and could only vividly imagine the horrors to come . I looked down, God please don't let him force me, not again, not like Him. That thought was painful, knowing that every time I was alone with a guy I'd always think he was gonna... Hey. So be it. I had 14 years of trusting people, time to move on. I must have rubbed my neck because next he was right by me (above me) reaching out to my chin with his weird long fingers and lifting my face up to the half-light.

"Huh, what is it with little girls an make-up?" The 'little' stung and it must have shown on my face as I thought 'if I'm old enough to get my heart broken then –'

"Ooo, don't like that, do ya? Okay then miss 'so-mature-my-barbies-have-pension-plans, how old are you?"

He was slowly turning my face side to side, like judging a show pony; I tried to shove his hand away (ugh, he's clammy).

"14".

"14 huh? Hmmm". He rummaged in his dark grey shirt and pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes, tipped one out so that it sat like a toothpick in his hand and held it out to me "Since you're sooo grown up...?"

I'd never smoked, not like Meddy or Nessa, it stunk and got into your hair and besides if mom and _Steve_ had found out then...well screw it, life can't get any worse. I reached out and picked it up.

"Atta girl! Here-" He pulled a lighter out from nowhere and lit it. I raised the cigarette it to my lips and tried to inhale like Nessa did.

"Soo...let me guess" He drummed his fingers on his chin, frowning at the old roof. "Parent problems? He glanced at me

"Hmm no...Aha!... Failing everything? Nope..."

He was playing with me the bastard

"Bingo! Boy problems!"

I wanted to yell at him to shut up but I was coughing at the acrid smoke and couldn't get the words out. I lifted the sleeve of my hoody to wipe my mouth and I must have pulled it away from my shoulders because next thing I knew-

" _What_... _Are_... _ **Those**_?"

His voice was laden with menace as he stared straight down at the bruises on my neck; he probably saw my torn top and bra too. Whatever he saw, it changed his face into a dark mask of fury.

Time, I think, gave me a break for a second, and I got to consider my _glorious_ options:

1\. Lie lie lie to Glossimi, run back to my _loving_ , _popular_ boyfriend, apologise and do those things he likes but make me feel ill, even finally let him take those pictures of me like he wanted... or

2\. Tell A Teacher and pit my word and reputation against his, the Golden Child's and -oh yeah- his legions of adoring fans.

Ug. I chose a bit of both,

"He didn't mean to..."

I couldn't even get the words out, in my tiny voice. I sounded like a child. I couldn't look at his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

"I love him a..and he loves me and we j-just had a fight.."

"Oh, you ' _just had a fight'_? Well tell me something then, Cutie, how many bruises will **he** have round his throat, huh? What old shed is **he** crying behind? And you say he ' _loves'_ you!? What  is it with you chicks!? Always sticking up for some jerk who knocks you around and you even take the **blame** -cos I'm damn sure **he** won't! Think it was a one-off? 'Course you do. This time and Every. Other. Time. Then you'll take the lumps and make the excuses so **he** doesn't have to!"

He seemed to grow bigger and his voice rose through the speech to a brick-shaking yell and his sarcasm and mockery stung. Every insult and sneer finding it's mark and breaking me down word by word til I just gave up on everything except standing upright.

"-And of **course** you'll stick it out 'cos once in a while he'll cry afterwards and says he won't _ever_ do it again and he'll say he _loves_ you - til the next time when it's **you're** fault and you **MAKE** him do this! **Get a GRIP Girlie**! Have a little self-preservation if you can't have **some** **damn self-respect!"**

I had stood and wept quietly through his rant as he angrily strode round the stable, shouting at the empty twilight. He stopped finally, out of breath and muttered to himself "Okay, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm cool, I'm fine" then slicked his hair back and cracked his shoulders.

Let me tell you - as big and tough as I am now, back then in that shed I just wanted someone to be kind to me, to tell me it wasn't my fault, that everything could be fixed, and would be set right by tomorrow. I wanted my mom. Not as she is now, but before. Before _Steve_ , before the baby, back when it was just **us** , making dinner, hugging before bed. A lonnng time ago.

At that moment in the stable I wanted to die.

He stepped close again and in a softer voice that almost broke me said:

"He hurt you real bad, huh Meg?

[It was the kindness in his voice that got me and – (ugh gimme a break!)- I wanted to throw my arms around him for comfort. For the last time in my life so far I wanted a hug.

But the last dregs of my self-esteem answered him:]

"It doesn't matter, it's finished now, I've learned my lesson" My treacherous voice cracked.

"A 14 year old who's learned her lesson? Jeez! Someone get me a camera!" He wasn't mocking like before, just trying a weak joke like you make to stop someone crying, but I was stuck sniffling and staring at the ground.

More rustling from above and he pushed something cold into my arms. I lifted it.

It was some kind of old, black metal hip flask, with engraving on the front L..E... T?

"What is it?"

"It's special water, helps you forget"

I remember thinking Yes! That's what I need! I grabbed it in both hands- it was heavy alright - and drank, almost pouring it over myself I was that desperate.

"Whoa! Slow down Sugar! Not too much! After all, you want to forget the fear and bruises, but you gotta keep hold of that 'lil scrap of **anger** , that bitterness and that special feeling that **now,** well now you've lived through the  worst \- _And you'll_ _ **never**_ _be fooled again_." He mock-whispered the last two lines in my ear and I shivered. He scared me. How did he know? How did he know exactly what I wanted - exactly how I _felt_? I thought of his angry speech and wondered - has he been through this all before…?

[I still wonder about his words even now, the look on his face when he saw my bruises- then I snap back and remember I really don't give a damn.]

I drank and the taste hit me -oh boy did it sting!

I know now it was liquor, maybe ouzo but more likely whisky, strong whisky and it tasted vaguely fruity, not cranberries, but-

"What, ugh, what is that stuff!?"

"Nectar of the gods, smoozy-poo."

Wincing I gulped it again, it blazed its way down my throat and I dragged air in through my lungs, wondering if it feels like this when your soul burns.

"Nectar of the gods –heh- with a Pomegranate twist."

It hit my stomach hard. I was bent over with tears in my eyes (yeah my mascara couldn't keep up, not then, not now) coughing violently and I remember him watching me, large arms folded, a strange expression I glimpsed behind that cigar smoke. Part savage, smirking triumph and part…tiredness?

Regret?

[What did he want with me? I still don't really know.]

I coughed and spluttered as he watched, eyes glowing, waiting. I knew he was waiting for something. For me.

I looked up.

"So what now?" I asked, trying not to sound scared...or start coughing again.

"Welllll what if I told you I could make it so this **Bozo** never hurt you again? You, or any other 'babe' he set his eye on? What if I could make him sorry?"

He took my hand to replace my dropped cigarette, leant in and said in a voice I now know so well, a voice that chills:

"Meg; what if I made him _**scream**_ apologies?"

And then, right there and then, with the bruises and the torn shirt (and the nights I just watched Him sleep) and the friends he made me dump and the clothes he stopped me wearing and how he said he Loved me and the nights I let him in my room and Steve calling me a Whore and mom just _standing_ there, saying nothing and me realizing that in the space of 20 minutes I'd gone from 'Miss Popular' to hiding in the old stables, damaged and tired and being plied with drink by the devil - who thought he could _use_ me like everybody else has -and does -and **always will**. Right then and there something in me -

I straightened up. Heart hardened, shattered and blown away.

With my hand on my hip and with my pain and innocence shoved deep down I tossed my hair back, raised my eyebrow and said in a voice I'd never heard before-

"If you think I'm sucking your cock for this then I'm gonna need a step ladder and- oh, about a gallon more of that drink".

He stopped, the cigar drooped til it almost fell out and his face lengthened into open-mouthed shock… and then he burst out with the loudest laughter I'd ever heard. It echoed on the old stables, dust falling from the stable roof.

"Oh you are **feisty**! You are a **dish** and a **dollar** and a **STAR**! That's more like it! I knew you were special, you little _**fury**_ , you!

I'm not even sure now, looking back, what I expected to happen, but it wasn't that. Maybe I expected a slap or an insult or for him to just grab my hair and force my head wherever he thought it should be, but this? He found me funny?

I was ' _Special'_?

He spread his arms wide and took a step towards me, but weirdly I wasn't afraid or creeped out anymore. [Okay, I still get creeped out sometimes...and a bit afraid.]

"Meg Meg Meg _MegMeg_ _ **Meg**_! I'm that bad babe? A _gallon?_ Really? Huh, I am _Hurt,_ insulted and _hurt_!

"Get me two Gallons and I might throw in some eye contact, if you don't mind me throwing up that is."

"From the drink or the eye contact?"

"Take a wild guess, pretty boy."

He laughed again at me standing there, 14 years old, arms crossed, hips tilted, having instantly grown bitter and cynical and Armor Plated - and he looked _proud_.

I should have ran and jumped a train, but I was tired of my weakness and the unfairness of it all, so I stood my ground, even as he again, with relish, pushed the tip of two fingers under my chin and gently tilted my face to look up at his:

"Meg. _Babe_. This is the start of a real _ **special**_ relationship."

Oh great, another one.

You'd think a girl would learn.


	4. Chapter 4 - Dahlink!

Chapter four – Blimey!

Short heads-up, this story will not necessarily be in chronological order. The story will jump between days and up to years in the past and several chapters may be the same day but from different viewpoints. Also, I'm trying to do certain chapters in different styles and formats, just to mix things up.

I'm also not making things easy, some chapters (like this one) you'll have to guess the characters – they are Disney, mostly villains.

If you think there is not enough info, or spot where I've screwed up or want to know if you guessed correctly- please drop me a line.

Ciao!

"Dahlink! I'm _telling_ you! If you'd let your hair grow out a bit-"

"Serdita, sweet cakes, they day I let you do my hair is the day you let me choose your lunch! HarHah!"

"Welll, you could stand to lose some weight Octavia..."

"You'd be the expert, I bet when you remove all your make up you lose 10 pounds! Hah!"

"Whale!"

"Crater face!"

"Moby Dick!"

"Look I'm being helpful! It's what I do! What I _live_ for!"

"Noo.. You live for dessert dahlink"

"Shouldn't you be somewhere teaching 14 years old how to throw up?"

"Shouldn't you be somewhere _feeling_ them up? _Da_?"

"For the last time -I was adjusting that boys uniform!"

"Da, da and I am head of PETA!"

"Quiet, both of you!"

"Did you just-? Did she just shh me? How dreadful dahlink!"

"Never mind her Serdita, she's just having withdrawal symptoms- she hasn't looked ina mirror for a full 30 seconds!"

"Aheeheeheeh!"

"Hahaharrh!"

"Mmm yes hilarious, didn't you hear that? I swear I just heard voices coming from that door"

"Vhat? That's just a cupboard."

"But I'm sure I heard voices –there! Did you hear it?"

"Da,…maybe I heard something too!"

"This is all _fasc-_ inating but we're going to miss lunch and it's calamari today…not that either of you eat at all but-"

"I'm telling you, I heard voices! People! Shouting! Lets go back."

"Don't be silly! Why?"

"Don't be tedious, dahlink! There's voices! Lets see who's in there at least."

"Probably a brat dogging lessons or just some randy lithe teenagers having a romantic, dirty fumble-"

" **ALL I WANT IS MEANINGLESS BACK-BREAKING SEX AND I WANT IT TONIGHT – IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!."**

"!?"

"!?"

"!?"

"Did you hear that?! Did you hear it?!"

"Hush sweetie! Quick, behind here."

"I told you I heard voices!"

"Shush! What on earth is going on in there?"

"Dahlink please move your plus-size bulk I cahn't see!"

"There, Twiglet, can u see now?!"

"Oh don't get precious!"

"Stop it both of you!"

"Shushhhh! Someone's coming out!"

"I bet it's that Pan boy, he seems to have girls on zhe go all the time."

"No no no, it's the rich, _extremely_ handsome one, Eric!"

"You fools, it's the little prince, Navoo"

"Navan?"

"It's Naveen! He's got the body language and the money! Ha hah!"

"The door's opening! It's opening!"

From their leering spot behind the glass doors they watched as the cupboard door opened wide and swung shut to reveal the instantly recognizable, long, elegant form of the Vice Principal, Professor Jafar Sabri. He stood for a moment, adjusting his shirt and tucking it fastidiously into his tailored trousers. Then, as he always did, he re-curled his goatee around his finger and with a satisfied smile, limped off down the corridor.

"I don't believe it! Professor Tall, Dark and Deadly having a dirty fumble in a cupboard! HA!"

"Vell he's always had that mysterious aura…"

"But he wouldn't risk the wrath of Her Viciousness for an undignified encounter in a cupboard, surely?"

"Good for old snake-hips, getting a quick skirt-lifter during lunch!"

"Vell! Octavia you are so coarse, it makes me positively miserable!"

"Well he always did seem to be more-than-meets-the-eye!"

"Vhat, like a transformer?"

"No! Well, yes, I mean he does drive that bright red Viper sports car? And you know what they say about men overcompensating?"

"That doesn't make much sense Octavia-"

"But who is he with dahlink?! **Who is he with?!"**

"Not the new girl, surely?"

"I bet its Hilde!"

"…Octavia, Dahlink, Hilde's standing right here."

"Yes I've been here literally the entire time we've been talking."

"Oh, um sorry angel fish its just, well, rumours are rumours - and you'd make such a stylish couple…."

"Dahlink! Dahlink! There's someone else! There's someone else! The door - _look_!"

Again the cupboard door opened, albeit slower this time, revealing the imposing silhouette of the Director of Business Studies – Mr. Hayden Glossími. He shuffled into the corridor, tucking his torn shirt into his trousers- letting out a very uncharacteristic sigh and slouching off, in the opposite direction taken by the cupboard's other recent inhabitant.

There are many things in this world, created purely to make a jaw drop. Finding out you've made someone fall _desperately_ in love with you, realizing your  Uncle was responsible for your father's death and not you, being chatted up by a talking candelabra etc.

For these three peeping mistresses of The Academy, all it took was to find out that the notoriously charming, womanizing Deputy HeadTeacher and the charismatic, womanizing Greek Business Studies teacher were not only – as was common knowledge best friends - but had in fact apparently just had a lovers tiff ending with a desperate plea for carnal attentions resulting in ruffled clothing, limping and heavy sighing….and all in the janitor's cupboard on the third floor near the cafeteria.

It's a good thing none of these ladies are the gossiping type.

Hah! Oh those poor unfortunate souls…..


	5. Chapter 5 - Here's one for you!

**SCENE** : Breakfast in the hall, it is almost at the bell for homeroom, **Clayton** , **Hook** and **Facilier** are standing by the teacher's breakfast bar drinking coffee next to the fruit and cereal that is laid out. It is a quiet, humdrum Tuesday morning. They are joined by **Gaston** , stretching and flexing wide and **McLeach** , working at his teeth with a toothpick.

 **Clayton:** All right gentlemen, here's one for you: What if, you had the power of invisibility, **but** you also had to have diarrhoea every hour.

 **McLeach:** Hmm….that's tough one right there.

 **Cpn de Colère:** Is the diarrhoea invisible?

 **Facilier:** Well of course it is! It is coming from an invisible body, ain't it?

 **Gaston:** So wait a minute, things  in your body - _from_ your body - stay invisible? Even once they're outside of it?

 **McLeach** : Well of course!

 **Cpn de Colère:** One moment there, is it not that it's invisible  until it's outside your body?

 **Facilier:** Well of course it is not, Cap'n, it  always stays invisible.

 **Ratcliffe:** I'm afraid the good Captain is right on this point gentlemen, because this hypothetical person, as Clayton stated, only has the power of invisibility _in_ _himself_ , and **not** the power to make _other things_ invisible!

 **McLeach:** Ahha well now!

 **Gaston** : Ahhhh that's it

 **Sykes:** Makes much more sense now…

 ** **Cpn de Colère** :** He makes a good point…

 **Facilier:** But…the diarrhoea is part of him, it came  from him, by all rights his body made it!

 **Gaston:** No, it came from food!

 **Sykes:** When do the things you eat become part of you..?

 **McLeach:** Don't go getting all philosophical on us now!

 **Facilier:** No he is making sense; it must come down to science, biology an' things!

 **Ratcliffe:** One moment, WIGGINS! Wiggins! When does the food you ingest become digested into the body?

 **Wiggins** : Um.. .maybe after 2-3 hours, in the small bowel. When I-

 **Ratcliffe:** There, you see? He simply needs to wait 2-3 hours after eating before he goes out, robbing jewels and such other things.

 **McLeach:** Like waitin' 1 hour before goin' swimming!

 ** **Cpn de Colère** :** I've never understood that rule…

 **Sykes:** Wait one second! That means every time you wanted to use your power you'd have to be completely naked! If you can't turn _clothes_ invisible!

 **Ratcliffe** : How savage.

 **Facilier** : I'll pass.

 **Gaston** :, No one digests like Gaston!

 **McLeach** : Where would you be living?

 **All:** Uh

Huh?

Say again?

 **McLeach:** Well, if it's out in the Navajo desert then you got a big problem, same as if you lived near a forest, you couldn't go about bare-footed.

 ** **Cpn de Colère** :** Is 'footed' a word?

 **Clayton:** Well, let's say that whatever you touch becomes invisible.

 **Gaston:** Now you're just making this up!

 ** **Cpn de Colère** :** Ho! Polonius! Is 'footed' a word?

 **Sykes:** So then the _ground_ you're standing on becomes invisible?

 **Ratcliffe:** No, fool, you'd have shoes on!

 **Gaston** : Invisible shoes?

 ** **Cpn de Colère** :** He says it's not a real word.

 **Facilier:** Well, invisible  while they're on you, sure.

 **Sykes:** So the invisibility stops at the shoes?

 **Gaston:** Well then why don't you just touch your own diarrhoea?

 **All:** What?!

Eurgh

Vulgar

 **Hades:** Kinky

 **Gaston:** Well, it's obvious that it would make it invisible!

 **Sykes:** -only while you're touching it!

 **McLeach:** Then you'd be carrying around your own scat with yi all day!

 **Hades:** You could always swallow it again.

 **Clayton:** Hades Dear God Man!

 **Cpn de Colère _:_** Bloody hell!

 **Gaston** : Where did he come from?!

 **All:** voice their disgust/shock at his arrival

 **Hades** : It's possible! I saw this movie once, on the youboob or yadda yadda - had these two hot little chickies and there's this tinkly piano music playing then they get this cup-

 **Jafar:** - **NO!**

 **All** : voice their surprise at **Jafar's** entrance, out of breath and serious

Jafar!

By Jove!

Shee-it!

 **Clayton:** Blast it man! Where did you come from!?

 **Jafar** : Do not * _pant_ * let him tell you that story! If you have any affection for the weaker sex or ever wish to find them attractive at some point in your future, then by Alla-

 **Dr. Cashlin:** Good Morning Gentlemen

 **All:** They snap to attention, sucking in guts and fixing beards, they greet the sudden arrival of the beautiful Doctor

Doctor

Doctor Cashlin

Cashlin

Hilde

Good morning Madam

Ma'am

Bon Jour Mademoiselle

/She picks up a large, dark-red, shiny apple and takes a succulent and totally _innocent_ bite before turning on her heel and sashaying off to her table./

 **Clayton:…** Well I think that's one thing we can **all** agree we'd do if we were invisible.

 **Sykes:** Mmhmm

 **Facilier:** And how

 **Ratcliffe:** Of course

 **Cpn de Colère _:_** Land ho'

 **Hades** : Like a peach

 **Jafar:** Delicious

 **Gaston:** She should be so lucky

 **McLeach:** Boy howdy

 **Wiggins** : And what would that one thing be?

 **Clayton:** …

 **Gaston:** …..

 **McLeach:** …..

 **Jafar:** …

 **Sykes:** ….

 **Gaston** …?

 **Hades** :…heh

 **Ratcliffe:** sigh Take a long walk, Wiggins.

 **Wiggins:** Oh, well I'm not sure how wise a long walk would be if invisible, there are twigs and dogs and-

 **Ratcliffe** : Nooo: Take a _long walk,_ Wiggins **! Now! Go!**

 **Wiggins** : Oh, Cheerio!

 **Ratcliffe** : And he came so highly recommended…

 **Hades:** Hey! Lookie-lookie! I found that video on my iphone, watch, here's the cup part…

 **Jafar:** **Don't watch the tape!**

 **Professor Vincent:** Good Morning Gentlemen

 **ALL:**

Headmistress

Professor Vincent

Professor, Etc.

 **Headmistress:** Ah! Hades, I see you have one of the new iphones, may I see it?

 **Hades** ….uh…no.

 **Headmistress** : …Pardon me?

 **Hades** :…..um….no. It's broken, cheap knock-off, heh?

 **Headmistress:** What a pity. I guess that means I won't be seeing it in your hands for a while?

 **Hades** :…..guess so.

 **Headmistress** : How marvelous, well Good Day Gentlemen.

 **All:** They murmur polite goodbyes, 'Headmistress', 'Professor', etc.

 **Hades** :….Bye Mal

 **Headmistress** : Don't call me Mal, peasant.

 **END**


End file.
